


Acetylcholine Receptors

by orphan_account



Category: Half-Life, Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Clones, Furry, M/M, Macro/Micro, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25798900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Steps to breaking out of Black Mesa's Biological Research:1) Make your way through the vents.2) Meet a new friend.3) Swallow him to get him past the guards.It's foolproof.
Relationships: Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Kudos: 27





	Acetylcholine Receptors

In hindsight, making a Bubby clone with cobra genes hadn’t panned out terribly well. He was more irritable and needed more care in terms of humidity and heat to keep the scales along his cheekbones, throat, and over his back in good condition. And the biting was yet to be trained out of him. 

His size—standing at two and a half feet tall—made him easier to wrangle into carriers and terrariums on his worse-tempered days.

Today, he had the privilege of walking from lab to dorm. A privilege he didn’t get often. 

But when he slithered back to his dorm room at the end of the day to sprawl out in front of his sun lamp, he found one of those Coomer clones rifling through things, furry tail twitching this way and that. He dominated the room, all fur and lab coat sniffing things. 

Bubby wasn’t scared. Coomer’s clones might’ve been bigger, but Bubby had venom.

So when the Coomer clone picked him up in one and without any hesitation or effort, Bubby was a little scared. And horny.

This Coomer clone was almost thrice Bubby’s size. And he had a sharp set of teeth. The better to chew you with, my dear, Bubby thought.

“I thought you’d be bigger,” Coomer admitted, turning Bubby over. “I suppose size doesn’t matter so much as long as you’re productive, hmm?”

“What are you?” Bubby squirms, trying to find some weak point in the one-handed hold Coomer has on him.

“Mongoose!” Coomer annonces, grinning with all those teeth. “A mongoose is a small terrestrial carnivorous mammal belonging to the family Herpestidae. This family is currently split into two subfamilies, the Herpestinae and the Mungotinae—“

“Stop!” Bubby pales a bit. Mongoose. So he’s immune to—

“I am immune to cobra venom.” Coomer states, still grinning. 

“How’d you get in here?”

Coomer points to a loose grate squeaking on its hinges. “The vents.”

And then Bubby squirms again, trying to break this grasp on him. That only makes Coomer hold on tighter, squeezing him. And he keeps grinning with all those teeth.

“You’re going to eat me,” Bubby accuses.

Coomer laughs. He doesn't deny it. 

Bubby wonders if he'd make it quick and break his neck with those teeth or just swallow him whole. The latter would be so slow. Crushed in Coomer's throat, maybe. 

"Have you ever wondered what's outside Black Mesa?" Coomer asks. 

Bubby shrugs as best he can. Coomer must mistake it for another escape attempt because he switches hands, holding Bubby tightly. "Not really."

"I'm going to the surface."

Bubby considers it. The surface has real sunlight. "I want out."

Coomer laughs. "There's only one way for me to sneak you out of here. But I need you to trust me."

Bubby glances at Coomer's free hand. He's got claws. And those sharp teeth. And he's immune to Bubby's venom. That's the scariest thing about Coomer.

But this seems like the best way out of being a Black Mesa pet. 

So Bubby nods.

"If I swallow you, it'll be faster than carrying you," Coomer assures Bubby. "And it'll be easier to get past any guards. Once we’re out, I’ll spit you out. Safe and sound"

It's a terrible idea. Insane, really. It'd never work.

"Alright," Bubby agrees.

“But I refuse to swallow your clothes.” 

Bubby nods in agreement.

Coomer's claws run over Bubby's clothes. They're not overly sharp, but Bubby doesn't think for a second they couldn't hurt him. One of those claws catches Bubby's shirt, tearing the fabric. Bubby holds absolutely still. Coomer turns Bubby over, slicing up his shirt just so to fall off him in scraps. 

Like peeling fruit.

His lab coat’s shredded too, peeled off by Coomer. Bubby shivers. Coomer could hurt him. Badly, if he wanted.

All that’s left are his shoes, which Coomer flicks off him in one easy motion. And socks pulled off. Slacks are shredded just like his shirt. Any sort of underwear’s always irritated the scales around his cloaca. 

Coomer notices and laughs. 

“Well, I hope you’ve come to trust me a little more,” Coomer says, grinning down at Bubby.

“A little,” Bubby admits, now squirming to get comfortable in Coomer’s fist.

Coomer looks Bubby over, pensive about how best to swallow him whole. Bubby shudders at the thought. He’s completely naked. There’s no doubt Coomer can see he’s everted, hemipenes flushed and on full display.

It happens so fast, Bubby has to use his clear eyelids to blink and not miss it. Coomer crams Bubby into his mouth feet first, careful with the teeth. And he swallows, throat constricting around Bubby tightly. 

He can hardly move. And if he could, it’s so wet inside and dark. There’s nothing to do but surrender and wait in the dark and hope Coomer’s true to his word.

Bubby, nestled in the dark of Coomer’s belly, feels the mongoose-spliced clone on the move.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 8/8 everybody! :-]


End file.
